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chimes began, soft with distance but quite clear. He paid no attention, nor,
as far as he could see, did she. Almost all of the remains of the original
crew had cabins now, thanks to the fact that the differential birth rate on
the Javelin was negative --or, to put it another way, that there were fewer
births than deaths-and the privacy was all the more valuable for the many
years that they had been without it.
Not that Ailiss was much more than an indifferent player of Castles; she could
think as many moves ahead as jorn could when she wanted to, but she was given
to impulses, and she had never bothered to study the classical openings and
the Great Games; but with Kamblin dead, there was nobody else on board jorn
cared to play with. This time, for a wonder, she was putting up a passable
resistance.
Besides, the dim light was grateful, a privilege in itself. The children were
welcome to the glare of the working areas and ward-rooms of the
Javelin; they
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170 James Blish had been born to it and seemed to prefer it, but it was hard
on old eyes.
It was Ailiss'move. After a while, her mouth pursed in an expression of
annoyance.
"I can't think," she complained. "Isn't that thing ever going to stop?"
"Probably. It's not our job to answer it. You're in double jeopardy, let me
remind you."
"I see that. I just keep losing my train of thought, with those bells jangling
away. Lees declare a recess. Maybe we ought to see what the trouble is,
anyhow."
"If there's any trouble, the Director will let us know," Jorn said
ponderously. "It's probably just some routine thing. Let the kids handle it,
it's good practice for them."
"Jorn, my dear, how long has it been since you last saw the Director?"
Jorn frowned. It seemed an irritatingly minor question. 'I can't say.
Several years."
"Has it occurred to you that he might be dead?"
"Frequently. However, there have been meals coming in and going out of there
all that time, and somebody's been eating them."
'That could be the doctor. Anyhow, I think we ought to go to the control
barrel and take a look. Unless my memory has gone bad entirely, that's
Yellow Warning One we're hearing."
Jorn sighed and pushed himself carefully back from the board. "I hope not,"
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he said; but he followed her out, all the same, wincing as the fluorescent
light came pouring through the open door.
They shuffled toward the barrel, favoring their individual arthritides with
the unselfconsciousness of long resignation. Looking at the ship around him
closely for the first time in many months, Jorn found good reason to renew his
wish that no planet-fall was
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And all the Stars a Stage 171
being foreshadowed. It was not only that he personally had been disappointed
more than often enough already-he could still, he told himself, see the course
of that apathy dispassionately for what it was. But in addition, the javelin
was shabby. The children bad been keeping her running, at least as far as her
essential services were concerned, but they had not been keeping her up . . .
and where little negligence are allowed, big ones are sure to come creeping
after, unnoticed until it is too late.
Well, perhaps that's our fault, too-all of us on the original crew. They never
had the training we had. We were too old and tired and discouraged to give it
to them, even if we'd had all the facilities. And of course, you can't expect
anything of passengers ...
The thought faltered. It was hard to bear in mind that there were very few
passengers any more. They bad outnumbered the crew enormously at the start, he
seemed to recall. But somehow they had failed to breed, in anything like
sufficient numbers. Odd, when you thought about it; what else had they had to
do?
There were not very many people in the control barrel, and of these Jorn and
Ailiss recognized only two: their daughter Kasi and her new husband, a
hard-voiced, cock-sure youngster whom Jorn could barely stand. Ailiss seemed
to be able to put up with him a little better, if only for Kasi's sake. He had
been in training to be Kamblin's replacement at the time of the latter's
death, but how much astronomy he actualIy knew was an open question. Hearing
him talk, in that arrogant, know-it-all voice of his, Jorn sometimes got the
fleeting impression that he did not think of stars as being real objects at
all, but only dots with certain arbitrary properties which he had been forced
to learn by rote. His name was Monel.
He did not appear to be so cock-sure at the
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172 James Blish moment, however. Like everyone else in the barrel, he was
standing at his post but not doing anything, his glance going from the door of
Ertak's quarters, to the computer, and back again to the door.
The door did not open.
"How long has this been going on?" Jorn demanded.
"About five minutes, Father," Kasi said.
"Tbat's already too long. If the Director doesn1 appear in another five, we'll
have to take action ourselves." The decision came out with great reluctance;
but anything was better than this agony of suspended doubt, ringing with the
chimes of the computer.
"And then?" Ailiss said.
"I don't know. I suppose we'll have to break into the cabin, just to make sure
that he's dead ... that they're both dead."
As an afterthought, Jorn started to cut the bells from the computer, and then,
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remembering the last time such a step had been taken, decided against it.
Better to give Ertak, or Dr. Chase-Huebner, every possible opportunity to hear
them, if they were going to within the time limit.
The bells chimed away at the minutes. At last Jorn said, "All right," and cut
off the sound. "Somebody get a drill."
The whirring cutter bit into the tough metal of the bulkhead. It was heavy
work; in seconds the business end of the tool was white hot. The boy wielding
it sweated over his work, frowning with absurdlyfierce concentration, his
teeth slightly bared. After a while, he had a quarter-circle cut around the
main dog, the one which carried the lock. He paused to push his wet hair back
out of his eyes.
The annunciators cleared their throats, all at once. Jorn started and looked
up, automatically.
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And all the Stars a Stage 173
"Rrch. Rk. Tsu'arr hamds. Rk. Arr hamds. Yerrow Warming. Wum. Rk. Yerrow
Warming Ome."
The sound sputtered and popped, and then the carrier hum cut off again.
Everyone turned to look at jorn, but he had no answers; no more did Ailiss.
The voice had been a little like Ertak's. It had also been a little like
Dr. Chase-Huebner's, though in reality, he recalled, these two had never
sounded in the least alike.
jorn spread his hands helplessly.
"Whoever it is, they're sick," he said. "We'd better get in fast. Resume
drilling."
"Arrchk. Arr hamds. Rk."
The cherry-red half-disc of metal canted suddenly, and then fell on the other
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